Allow me to introduce you to a humorous dialogue from work. Nothing else happened today...
Scene I
[Scene: SCERA pool, Ocelot pacing the edge, looking intently at the five people populating the water.]
[Enter Mark the Supervisor]
Mark [approaching Ocelot]: I am strongly under the suspicion that the party isn't going to show tonight.
Ocelot [not turning from the water]: Uh-huh.
Mark: I mean, I don't have a deposit, paperwork, why do I feel so tall?
Ocelot [caught off guard]: Uh, 'cause I'm short?
Mark: I'm dwarfing you!
Ocelot: Yup.
Mark [seeming to remember himself]: But not 'cause you're short, or anything... Anyway, close as if there was no party coming, all right?
Ocelot: 'Kay. [Exunt Mark, stage left] I still think it's 'cause I'm short.
[shrugs. Exunt, stage right]
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Vents
This will be short, hopefully, but it is the largest occurence of my yesterday.
In English we were asked to write a story that was a page and a half, yes? Yes. So both my mother and I interpret that as meaning the story itself can only be up to two pages (I understand that if teachers are going to read all of them, they must be short enough to make this feasible). However, what kind of story can you fit in two pages? Hardly any at all! Without paying attention, I typed a 4-page rough draft. What followed after is horrible to speak of. I spent the next two hours clipping away at my glorious creation. I have sliced and slashed and incinerated half the story! Well, true, I also changed the character spacing just a wee bit and the margins are all bigger too, but that's not the point! Nearly all my buildup is gone. Oh, the misery. Oh, the agony of mine soul! That such a flower of perfection, the expressions of mine desires, should be cut down to a mere shadow of what it was. Woe is me!
In English we were asked to write a story that was a page and a half, yes? Yes. So both my mother and I interpret that as meaning the story itself can only be up to two pages (I understand that if teachers are going to read all of them, they must be short enough to make this feasible). However, what kind of story can you fit in two pages? Hardly any at all! Without paying attention, I typed a 4-page rough draft. What followed after is horrible to speak of. I spent the next two hours clipping away at my glorious creation. I have sliced and slashed and incinerated half the story! Well, true, I also changed the character spacing just a wee bit and the margins are all bigger too, but that's not the point! Nearly all my buildup is gone. Oh, the misery. Oh, the agony of mine soul! That such a flower of perfection, the expressions of mine desires, should be cut down to a mere shadow of what it was. Woe is me!
Monday, August 22, 2005
Raquetball Reformation
I can never look at a raquetball court the same way again. Or a wallyball court either. I just spent 3 1/2 hours scrubbing the walls of said places. In that time we cleaned one of each. We were the fast group. In the process, we had chemical irriation, blisters, and general frustration. You know those marks that raquetball balls make on the wall? Yeah? THEY DON'T COME OFF. Unless you scrub the same two square feet for fifteen minutes. Multiply that my how many sets of two-foot squares we could reach with our monstrous extendable poles and you have our time frame. Plus we had to scrape/scrub the windows with a separate solution, so as not to ruin the windows.
The wallyball court was easier, but even so it was horrid. By then most of our hands had been rubbed raw.
As if that were not enough, we then had to scrub the cement walls outside of the Rec. Center courts. Not that we accomplished anything. It would be a great cruel and unusual punishment. Sentenced to clean a wall that doesn't come clean, no matter your efforts. The court doors weren't much better, but there were some spots we could scrape off with gum scrapers.
But beyond the physical and mental toture they put us through, the music that was playing was BEYOND BEARABLE. They don't pay me enough to listen to that music period, let alone while I'm sacrificing life and limb for the sake of the raquetball courts. Not only that, but just down the hall from the hideous music, there was mildly tolerable music playing. That would have been fine, HAD I NOT BEEN SCRUBBING A DOOR IN THE MIDDLE OF THEM! So I had to endure two horrendous styles of music coming at me from both directions and mingling in a dischordant symphony in my mind.
The only up side was being able to see the pool when it was nearly drained. There's still water in the deep end, but other than that it's empty.
The wallyball court was easier, but even so it was horrid. By then most of our hands had been rubbed raw.
As if that were not enough, we then had to scrub the cement walls outside of the Rec. Center courts. Not that we accomplished anything. It would be a great cruel and unusual punishment. Sentenced to clean a wall that doesn't come clean, no matter your efforts. The court doors weren't much better, but there were some spots we could scrape off with gum scrapers.
But beyond the physical and mental toture they put us through, the music that was playing was BEYOND BEARABLE. They don't pay me enough to listen to that music period, let alone while I'm sacrificing life and limb for the sake of the raquetball courts. Not only that, but just down the hall from the hideous music, there was mildly tolerable music playing. That would have been fine, HAD I NOT BEEN SCRUBBING A DOOR IN THE MIDDLE OF THEM! So I had to endure two horrendous styles of music coming at me from both directions and mingling in a dischordant symphony in my mind.
The only up side was being able to see the pool when it was nearly drained. There's still water in the deep end, but other than that it's empty.
Thursday, August 18, 2005
Seething
The ocelot bristled from her perch in the oak tree. Her claws flicked in and out of functional positions and her tail twitched back and forth. Her eyes were golden flames of rage. Had she been capable of growling, she would have. As it was, periodically she would emit a low, ominous hiss. Her thoughts swelled within her mind, rising and receding in her anger. It rose to a pinnacle and with a ear-splitting cry she slashed at the trunk of her tree. The area she struck was stripped of much of its bark; it was not the first time she had such an outburst. An insect with white wings flapped past and she snapped at it, barely missing the wing. She only wished that the insect had been the tomcat.
She was not about to ask the tomcat to undo what he had done, for in so doing she would do a discourtesy greater than the disservice he had placed at her feet. She hunched her shoulders and bared her fangs. Just thinking about it made her want to strangle something. Admittedly, some of her frustration arose from the strenuous patrolling of the night, but the majority had directly arisen from the tomcat's thoughlessness. She gnashed her teeth and slowly stripped her tree's limb of its bark. With every inward breath she contemplated revenge, with every outward one she tried to ponder forgiveness.
Then her eyes caught sight of the newly arrived moon-glow. It created a breathtaking halo around the distant mountain range. Awestuck, she gazed at the nearly-full moon as it rose. Her golden eyes reflected the huge silver orb and the irrational anger slowly drained from them. Her mind worked over the day's events and she realized that, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't that big of a deal. It was nothing worth getting this worked up about and it certainly wasn't worth slaughtering one of her best friends. She even abandoned her idea of the perfect revenge. Feeling her tense muscles loosen as her rage leaked out of them, she sighed. She could only hope that it wouldn't happen again. She padded to where her limb met the trunk and curled into a small ball. Taking one last breath of the forest air, she fell promptly to sleep.
Tomcat, if you happen to read this (which it doesn't look like you will if the last post of mine you read was Lifeguard Apathy 1.5), know that I'm really not mad at you anymore. However, had you not been approximately two miles away when I found out what you did, we probably both would have gone through a repeat of the fourth grade, if you catch my meaning. But, as I said, I have realized that it isn't a huge problem and I won't be ready to slice off your head the next time I see you. But I would advise that in the future, preferably the near future, you acquire some common courtesy.
She was not about to ask the tomcat to undo what he had done, for in so doing she would do a discourtesy greater than the disservice he had placed at her feet. She hunched her shoulders and bared her fangs. Just thinking about it made her want to strangle something. Admittedly, some of her frustration arose from the strenuous patrolling of the night, but the majority had directly arisen from the tomcat's thoughlessness. She gnashed her teeth and slowly stripped her tree's limb of its bark. With every inward breath she contemplated revenge, with every outward one she tried to ponder forgiveness.
Then her eyes caught sight of the newly arrived moon-glow. It created a breathtaking halo around the distant mountain range. Awestuck, she gazed at the nearly-full moon as it rose. Her golden eyes reflected the huge silver orb and the irrational anger slowly drained from them. Her mind worked over the day's events and she realized that, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't that big of a deal. It was nothing worth getting this worked up about and it certainly wasn't worth slaughtering one of her best friends. She even abandoned her idea of the perfect revenge. Feeling her tense muscles loosen as her rage leaked out of them, she sighed. She could only hope that it wouldn't happen again. She padded to where her limb met the trunk and curled into a small ball. Taking one last breath of the forest air, she fell promptly to sleep.
Tomcat, if you happen to read this (which it doesn't look like you will if the last post of mine you read was Lifeguard Apathy 1.5), know that I'm really not mad at you anymore. However, had you not been approximately two miles away when I found out what you did, we probably both would have gone through a repeat of the fourth grade, if you catch my meaning. But, as I said, I have realized that it isn't a huge problem and I won't be ready to slice off your head the next time I see you. But I would advise that in the future, preferably the near future, you acquire some common courtesy.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
Disturbances in the Force
So I realized just tonight that wookies can't pronounce their names. How is that supposed to work?
Han Solo: Hi, what's your name?
Chewbacca: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHRRRRR!
Han Solo: Oh, Chewbacca, eh? That's a nice name.
My frustration of the night. There was another about Obi-Wan calling Palpatine the Emperor before he could have known that the guy had made the Republic an Empire, but my biggest issue was definitely the wookie one.
Han Solo: Hi, what's your name?
Chewbacca: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHRRRRR!
Han Solo: Oh, Chewbacca, eh? That's a nice name.
My frustration of the night. There was another about Obi-Wan calling Palpatine the Emperor before he could have known that the guy had made the Republic an Empire, but my biggest issue was definitely the wookie one.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Awkward...
is a weird word to spell. And it is what all these "is he your boyfriend" type questions are like. If I wasn't the kind of person who bursted out laughing at such things, I would have issues. Today it was more in the form of "how long have you been dating?" but it was still really weird. The very thought made me simultaneously chuckle and cringe. Pwetty weiwd. Considering that the last such question was only eight days ago makes it even more awkward (that word is utterly absurd, once again). And there we go; that was more or less my day. The rest of it was lifeguard boredom, as per usual. And lifeguard insanity, but not too much...
Well, not more than you would expect when you set all the lifeguards loose with only three rules keeping them in check. Tube rafts down the twisty slide! Triple chicken wars! Dive boarding to the max! *runs away and goes to bed*
Well, not more than you would expect when you set all the lifeguards loose with only three rules keeping them in check. Tube rafts down the twisty slide! Triple chicken wars! Dive boarding to the max! *runs away and goes to bed*
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
River Folk Competition
Well, here's a hopefully better-composed creative entry. Today I went to an August swim practice. August swim practices are a joke. We have no coach and basically the only reason they exist is because none of us have lives. For the last half hour of practice we combine with the little kids and play games. Today we played steal the flag. Because I have nothing to compete in during the summer, even these petty games are a huge deal to me. So this post is pretty long.
The ocelot tossed a small fish between her paws on the bank of the river, impatiently waiting for the others. Every so often she would nibble at the fish, and by the time the fox appeared from the underbrush, all that was left was some neatly picked bones and the fins. The fins had no flavor worthy of consumption.
The fox and the ocelot skidded down the bank together and began their pre-plunge rituals. The greyhound casually trotted up to them and began dousing her paws and muzzle. Then the chipmunk scampered out on a flimsy limb above them. The limb didn’t hold and the small rodent tumbled into the water with a splash. Then, to the surprise of all present, the flamingo joined them. Most had not seen the flamingo since the farewell to a few friends and all were shocked to find her there again. Others of the river folk slowly trickled into the water and soon all were swimming playfully. Younger river folk worked seriously a little ways upstream, but the older folk swam at their leisure.
After quite some time of such matters—the sun had come out from behind the tree it had hidden behind—the younger folk joined the older and began a game. The game was certainly an interesting one. The females guarded one bank of the river and the males the other. The ocelot plucked the fins of her fish off the bones and one was placed on each bank. The females’ goal was to keep the males from getting their own and to capture the males’. Upon hearing the proposition the ocelot grinned happily; this was the competition she had been missing all summer.
The first round began and the ocelot paced the imaginary border along the river. It wasn’t so much pacing and treading back and forth, for the water was too deep for her to touch bottom. She tried to plot how to best reach the males’ fin, but then spotted the greedy eyes of the emu, the gecko, and the heron. She paddled back from the border and into a position to defend her fin.
The emu and the gecko she knew she could handle. At least, she knew she could handle them with the help of the younger animal that was also guarding the fin. So long as she had someone to delay one of the opposing animals, she could manage both. But with the heron, she wasn’t so sure. If they all came at once she didn’t think she could take them. She was right. All three came at the same time, each from a different direction. She caught two, but as she turned to grasp at the heron, he cockily stroked back to his side of the river. He strutted along his bank waving the fin and the ocelot seethed. Her competitive self had been awakened.
The second round went much better for the females. The greyhound coordinated a plan and swam swiftly for the fin. She grasped it but, knowing that she would be overcome, passed it to the chipmunk. The chipmunk carried it a small way before being set upon. She passed it to a younger creature, but the ocelot could see that the creature would not make it. She would come close, but close doesn’t count. The ocelot reached her paws across the border and snatched the fin from the assaulted youngling. She raised it in the air to show victory, then praised the greyhound for her cleverness.
The third round was hotly competitive. Several attempts on both sides were made to retrieve the fins, but all failed. The ocelot had nearly strangled the emu in trying to haul him to the surface and almost felt sorry, but then the emu blatantly flouted the rules so her pity was gone. The gecko attempted to distract her with a wave of younglings before coming in himself, but the ocelot and her companion held them back well enough to throw him back as well. Then the ocelot caught sight of the heron looking back and forth, trying to spot anyone watching him. The cat submerged; not only was she unseen when the heron dove down to make his attack, but she was well placed when he started for the fin. The gecko, seeing his friend moving in, also ventured across the border. The ocelot knew her companion could do little against either of the assailants and fretted. She’d go for the biggest threat first. Rising to the surface for a quick breath of air, she dove towards the heron.
The bird’s feathers were slick in the water and he kept wiggling when the ocelot would grasp him. As tempted as she was to use her claws, she refrained. Much to her dismay, he grabbed the fin. The ocelot saw a flicker of movement that was her companion attempting to thwart the gecko. Paddling furiously, the ocelot pursued the heron. He couldn’t have much air left in his lungs; he would have to come up soon. But not soon enough. The ocelot, in one desperate attempt, threw her paws around the heron, pinning his wings to his body and crushing the air from his chest. Frantically the heron rose to the surface. He tried to pass the fin to the gecko, but the ocelot’s companion had done well. The gecko was shorter on air than the heron was and soon had to rise. As soon as they were both above the water, the ocelot snatched the fin back. And in that moment the fox reappeared on the females’ side bearing the males’ fin. Victory.
Oh, and in case you're curious, the heron is quite a cocky fellow, so I was quite happy to have beaten him at something. He's one of the fastest guys on the team too. But in capture the flag, it's all in the strategy, so I stand a small chance.
The ocelot tossed a small fish between her paws on the bank of the river, impatiently waiting for the others. Every so often she would nibble at the fish, and by the time the fox appeared from the underbrush, all that was left was some neatly picked bones and the fins. The fins had no flavor worthy of consumption.
The fox and the ocelot skidded down the bank together and began their pre-plunge rituals. The greyhound casually trotted up to them and began dousing her paws and muzzle. Then the chipmunk scampered out on a flimsy limb above them. The limb didn’t hold and the small rodent tumbled into the water with a splash. Then, to the surprise of all present, the flamingo joined them. Most had not seen the flamingo since the farewell to a few friends and all were shocked to find her there again. Others of the river folk slowly trickled into the water and soon all were swimming playfully. Younger river folk worked seriously a little ways upstream, but the older folk swam at their leisure.
After quite some time of such matters—the sun had come out from behind the tree it had hidden behind—the younger folk joined the older and began a game. The game was certainly an interesting one. The females guarded one bank of the river and the males the other. The ocelot plucked the fins of her fish off the bones and one was placed on each bank. The females’ goal was to keep the males from getting their own and to capture the males’. Upon hearing the proposition the ocelot grinned happily; this was the competition she had been missing all summer.
The first round began and the ocelot paced the imaginary border along the river. It wasn’t so much pacing and treading back and forth, for the water was too deep for her to touch bottom. She tried to plot how to best reach the males’ fin, but then spotted the greedy eyes of the emu, the gecko, and the heron. She paddled back from the border and into a position to defend her fin.
The emu and the gecko she knew she could handle. At least, she knew she could handle them with the help of the younger animal that was also guarding the fin. So long as she had someone to delay one of the opposing animals, she could manage both. But with the heron, she wasn’t so sure. If they all came at once she didn’t think she could take them. She was right. All three came at the same time, each from a different direction. She caught two, but as she turned to grasp at the heron, he cockily stroked back to his side of the river. He strutted along his bank waving the fin and the ocelot seethed. Her competitive self had been awakened.
The second round went much better for the females. The greyhound coordinated a plan and swam swiftly for the fin. She grasped it but, knowing that she would be overcome, passed it to the chipmunk. The chipmunk carried it a small way before being set upon. She passed it to a younger creature, but the ocelot could see that the creature would not make it. She would come close, but close doesn’t count. The ocelot reached her paws across the border and snatched the fin from the assaulted youngling. She raised it in the air to show victory, then praised the greyhound for her cleverness.
The third round was hotly competitive. Several attempts on both sides were made to retrieve the fins, but all failed. The ocelot had nearly strangled the emu in trying to haul him to the surface and almost felt sorry, but then the emu blatantly flouted the rules so her pity was gone. The gecko attempted to distract her with a wave of younglings before coming in himself, but the ocelot and her companion held them back well enough to throw him back as well. Then the ocelot caught sight of the heron looking back and forth, trying to spot anyone watching him. The cat submerged; not only was she unseen when the heron dove down to make his attack, but she was well placed when he started for the fin. The gecko, seeing his friend moving in, also ventured across the border. The ocelot knew her companion could do little against either of the assailants and fretted. She’d go for the biggest threat first. Rising to the surface for a quick breath of air, she dove towards the heron.
The bird’s feathers were slick in the water and he kept wiggling when the ocelot would grasp him. As tempted as she was to use her claws, she refrained. Much to her dismay, he grabbed the fin. The ocelot saw a flicker of movement that was her companion attempting to thwart the gecko. Paddling furiously, the ocelot pursued the heron. He couldn’t have much air left in his lungs; he would have to come up soon. But not soon enough. The ocelot, in one desperate attempt, threw her paws around the heron, pinning his wings to his body and crushing the air from his chest. Frantically the heron rose to the surface. He tried to pass the fin to the gecko, but the ocelot’s companion had done well. The gecko was shorter on air than the heron was and soon had to rise. As soon as they were both above the water, the ocelot snatched the fin back. And in that moment the fox reappeared on the females’ side bearing the males’ fin. Victory.
Oh, and in case you're curious, the heron is quite a cocky fellow, so I was quite happy to have beaten him at something. He's one of the fastest guys on the team too. But in capture the flag, it's all in the strategy, so I stand a small chance.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Lifeguard Insanity IX
Yes, that's a nine.
Today it was cloudy, in case y'all didn't know, so there were precious few people at the pool. To fill our lack of patrons to watch, the lifeguards all went cwazy. I started by trying to see how many polyatomic ions I could remember. I got stuck on thiocyanate (which I now know to be SCN-) and was still trying to remember it while Danny, the lifeguard rotating behind me, had me switch positions. He asked me what I was muttering about and to make a long story short, we started quizzing each other on random chemistry facts. This comes back later.
So then me and this girl Kelly ended up next to each other (still on separate pools, but there was no one to watch) so we talked. We started with how the shift coordinator has it in for us and this other girl because we three are the closing head guards nearly this entire week. We somehow moved on to random games played with friends and I got some fun ideas. We also saw lightning, but it was too far away for it to affect us.
An hour after Kelly and I had spotted the lightning and had been keeping close tabs on it, Danny noticed it. By this point we had run out of chemistry trivia and had moved on to history. But that's not relevant yet. The point is that every time he would see lightning, he'd do this annoying chirp through his whistle that drove me and Kelly insane. I hit him with my tube (rather harder than I ever have, I must admit) and told him to stop it. I had asked nicely before, but I only have so much patience. He then asked me a string of founding father questions that I couldn't hope to answer. When he told me he only got up to about the Civil War in his history class, I started asking CW questions as well as WWI and WWII questions. Etc.
So in the after hours party, it was so empty that Danny and I stopped waiting till rotating time to quiz each other. We just started yelling across the pool. We got a lot done too. But in the time that we weren't shouting questions or mocking each other for answering incorrectly, he was still chirping! After a half hour of this and several times of whacking him with my shoe, I decided to stop flipping out and start plotting revenge.
After the party we spot-cleaned the locker rooms. This means that we didn't get the hose out and we didn't mop them again. We just got a bucket of water to splosh the dirt and then squeegeed (sp?) it all down the drains. I placed myself in charge of the bucket; I'm a head guard, I can do that sort of thing. Once we were finished and we had exitted the locker room, Danny turned his back and I dumped 2/3 of a bucket of icy water on his head. He was upset, but it was payback and I had Kelly behind me on the fact that he deserved it.
And that was my day. Actually, I went biking earlier in the day and that was great fun. I made it up the Hogi Yogi hill without passing out or walking my bike! Joy to the world, all the boys and girls. Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea; joy to you and me!
Today it was cloudy, in case y'all didn't know, so there were precious few people at the pool. To fill our lack of patrons to watch, the lifeguards all went cwazy. I started by trying to see how many polyatomic ions I could remember. I got stuck on thiocyanate (which I now know to be SCN-) and was still trying to remember it while Danny, the lifeguard rotating behind me, had me switch positions. He asked me what I was muttering about and to make a long story short, we started quizzing each other on random chemistry facts. This comes back later.
So then me and this girl Kelly ended up next to each other (still on separate pools, but there was no one to watch) so we talked. We started with how the shift coordinator has it in for us and this other girl because we three are the closing head guards nearly this entire week. We somehow moved on to random games played with friends and I got some fun ideas. We also saw lightning, but it was too far away for it to affect us.
An hour after Kelly and I had spotted the lightning and had been keeping close tabs on it, Danny noticed it. By this point we had run out of chemistry trivia and had moved on to history. But that's not relevant yet. The point is that every time he would see lightning, he'd do this annoying chirp through his whistle that drove me and Kelly insane. I hit him with my tube (rather harder than I ever have, I must admit) and told him to stop it. I had asked nicely before, but I only have so much patience. He then asked me a string of founding father questions that I couldn't hope to answer. When he told me he only got up to about the Civil War in his history class, I started asking CW questions as well as WWI and WWII questions. Etc.
So in the after hours party, it was so empty that Danny and I stopped waiting till rotating time to quiz each other. We just started yelling across the pool. We got a lot done too. But in the time that we weren't shouting questions or mocking each other for answering incorrectly, he was still chirping! After a half hour of this and several times of whacking him with my shoe, I decided to stop flipping out and start plotting revenge.
After the party we spot-cleaned the locker rooms. This means that we didn't get the hose out and we didn't mop them again. We just got a bucket of water to splosh the dirt and then squeegeed (sp?) it all down the drains. I placed myself in charge of the bucket; I'm a head guard, I can do that sort of thing. Once we were finished and we had exitted the locker room, Danny turned his back and I dumped 2/3 of a bucket of icy water on his head. He was upset, but it was payback and I had Kelly behind me on the fact that he deserved it.
And that was my day. Actually, I went biking earlier in the day and that was great fun. I made it up the Hogi Yogi hill without passing out or walking my bike! Joy to the world, all the boys and girls. Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea; joy to you and me!
Friday, August 05, 2005
Lifeguard Insanity VIII
Some of you may remember the Roasted Toad post. Some of you may not. Either way I just realized that it doesn't matter.
Anyway, today at work the toad was on my pool. He was in one of his tolerable moods, so I was able to torment him for a while to entertain myself. However, later on in the night, his mere presence aroused such humor that I could barely contain my amusement. Come to think of it, I didn't.
So, it was the last fifteen minutes of general public hours and both of us were roving around the current channel in the slide pool. He had been in the water and the wind was blowing so he had one of our lifeguard jackets on. I was too wimpy to get in the water, but I'm a head guard so I can erase the necessity to get in the water. Back on track, several young (when I say young, I mean young) girls were going around the channel and called the toad a sissy. I had to agree. So did he. So the little girls teasing him on that account only lasted a short while. They sure were loud about it though. Ah well, on with the tale. Shortly thereafter, they went on a crusade to discover his name. Both of us being greatly entertained, we told them things like Scott, Matt, and (shamefully) Fredrika. The last one gave away the fact that we weren't telling the truth. After they were told that it started with a J we fed them names like Jeremiah, Jared, Jason, and Jack. The girls were muy confused and so proceeded to ranting about us being liars. "You LIED to us! I can't believe it! You LIARS!" It was quite entertaining. Then they asked if he was my boyfriend. I had to get him to watch my water because I was laughing so hard. I couldn't stand for my laughter. Then I told him what I was laughing about and I had to watch his water so he could laugh it off as well.
After we closed and the gals on my pool were in the locker rooms trying to scare all the ladies out, we overheard the girls dicussing that they thought the toad was very cute. You must realize that some of these girls were like eight. Once we shooed them out of the facility, we guarded a party. Nothing cool happened in that party. Then we guarded another one. Here's where it gets funnier (okay, so maybe this isn't all that entertaining to you folks, but to bored lifeguards, this is what we die for!).
Near the end no one was in our pool except for the folks going down the slides. Then two girls decided to go around the channel after riding. Me and another of the gal guards overheard them talking. The toad had been at the top of the slide. I now quote their words:
"Did you hear how he told me to go? He used a sexy voice!"
"He's so hot!"
Insert fits of girly giggles.
Now, these girls couldn't have been older than nine, if that. Like, I think that's stretching it. It's a good thing I was already sitting down, because otherwise I probably would have split my head open during my full-body laughter.
When we were once again cleaning the locker rooms, we told the toad of the latest infatuation he had caused and awarded him the "Most Attractive to Females Under the Age of Nine" award. And that was probably the highlight of my week, right there. Hilarious I tell you!
Anyway, today at work the toad was on my pool. He was in one of his tolerable moods, so I was able to torment him for a while to entertain myself. However, later on in the night, his mere presence aroused such humor that I could barely contain my amusement. Come to think of it, I didn't.
So, it was the last fifteen minutes of general public hours and both of us were roving around the current channel in the slide pool. He had been in the water and the wind was blowing so he had one of our lifeguard jackets on. I was too wimpy to get in the water, but I'm a head guard so I can erase the necessity to get in the water. Back on track, several young (when I say young, I mean young) girls were going around the channel and called the toad a sissy. I had to agree. So did he. So the little girls teasing him on that account only lasted a short while. They sure were loud about it though. Ah well, on with the tale. Shortly thereafter, they went on a crusade to discover his name. Both of us being greatly entertained, we told them things like Scott, Matt, and (shamefully) Fredrika. The last one gave away the fact that we weren't telling the truth. After they were told that it started with a J we fed them names like Jeremiah, Jared, Jason, and Jack. The girls were muy confused and so proceeded to ranting about us being liars. "You LIED to us! I can't believe it! You LIARS!" It was quite entertaining. Then they asked if he was my boyfriend. I had to get him to watch my water because I was laughing so hard. I couldn't stand for my laughter. Then I told him what I was laughing about and I had to watch his water so he could laugh it off as well.
After we closed and the gals on my pool were in the locker rooms trying to scare all the ladies out, we overheard the girls dicussing that they thought the toad was very cute. You must realize that some of these girls were like eight. Once we shooed them out of the facility, we guarded a party. Nothing cool happened in that party. Then we guarded another one. Here's where it gets funnier (okay, so maybe this isn't all that entertaining to you folks, but to bored lifeguards, this is what we die for!).
Near the end no one was in our pool except for the folks going down the slides. Then two girls decided to go around the channel after riding. Me and another of the gal guards overheard them talking. The toad had been at the top of the slide. I now quote their words:
"Did you hear how he told me to go? He used a sexy voice!"
"He's so hot!"
Insert fits of girly giggles.
Now, these girls couldn't have been older than nine, if that. Like, I think that's stretching it. It's a good thing I was already sitting down, because otherwise I probably would have split my head open during my full-body laughter.
When we were once again cleaning the locker rooms, we told the toad of the latest infatuation he had caused and awarded him the "Most Attractive to Females Under the Age of Nine" award. And that was probably the highlight of my week, right there. Hilarious I tell you!
Biking Hapiness!
The wood duck just saved me having to get a new bike, yet I didn't have to pay for labor fixing it either. Admittedly, it's not perfect, but considering its condition prior to his playing with it, it's in pretty good shape. Now I can go biking up the canyon! Wahoo! I am muy gleeful.
In other news, I love having the power to make characters whatever I want them to be. Bwaha.
In other news, I love having the power to make characters whatever I want them to be. Bwaha.
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Save the Commas!
I think that it was in eighth grade that we, as an English class, were given the assignment of following the outline of a certain poem but changing the meaning. I can't remember what it was called, but it started out (or had this in it) like so: "My pwoblems, who knows, maybe evewybody's pwoblems, is due to da fact, to da aweful twoof, dat I am Spidoman." Or something like that. All I remember was that it was written with this weird childish slur to it. It was a pretty cool poem. Anyway, we had to change it from Spiderman to something else. I changed it to being a writer. Or a wannabe writer, whatever. Sometimes it's really frusterating to have all these ideas in my head. I have so many separate plot lines that I'm going insane. Even when I like all the plot lines and I enjoy writing them, it's hard to keep the character personalities defined and keeping the rules of different fantasy places where they belong gets tedious. But that's not even the worst of it. I didn't become the extreme grammar/punctuation freak that I am until after I started editing other people's writing. They all assumed I could edit them because I wrote my own stuff. And now I can't even read published books without reaching for my red pen! My most recent issues have been these: In one book I was reading they used "our" where I'm sure they meant "out" and in Harry Potter 5 I keep finding dialogue where Rowling abuses commas heinously. It detracts from the story, it does. I wish I could find an example so I could stop all you from shaking your heads and saying, "She can't be right about the commas thing." It's really and honestly true. Next time I find one I'll post it. But she has these incredible run-on sentences. I could cry. You'd think that by the fifth book she could have found somebody that would catch them all. I mean, once or twice is one thing, but it's a repeating mistake! She needs to read Eats, Shoots & Leaves by Lynne Truss. Apparently it was a bestseller over in Britain; she should have seen it by now. And it's not a boring punctuation book! It's fun. Anyway, you're probably all bored with my grammar rant, but that's what was on my mind right now...
In other news, I just wrote the longest two-person conversation that I have ever had in my stories! Or maybe not, but it was very close and I had no idea where it was going when I started it. Dialogue is not my forte, but I think I'm getting better. Maybe.
In other news, I just wrote the longest two-person conversation that I have ever had in my stories! Or maybe not, but it was very close and I had no idea where it was going when I started it. Dialogue is not my forte, but I think I'm getting better. Maybe.
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